Graveside Musings
by mabelreid
Summary: A collection of one shots featuring Reid and his visits to Maeve's gravesite. Will he work through his pain and find a new life, or remain locked forever behind guilt and hopelessness for the future?
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n hello all. I hope that my fans here in America had a wonderful Thanksgiving. This first chapter takes place in season nine around the time of the episode "Mr and Mrs Anderson. It's a collection of Reid's visits to Maeve's gravesite and how he's working through his lose toward a better place and perhaps someone new in his life. _**

The greenhouse roses in his hands were beautifully fragrant and blood red. They made him think of June, despite the date – February 14th – Valentine's Day. He'd always despised the day and all it signified, but this year – he stopped and sighed. This year he had someone to gift flowers to and all he wanted to do was run in the opposite direction.

He forced his feet forward over the snow-covered lawn and down a gentle slope toward a raised fountain with a life-sized statue of Jesus, carved from white marble, with his arms outstretched as if welcoming all to his embrace. To his left, Spencer Reid turned and slowly walked forward to a bronze plated, marble headstone, that lay flush to the ground.

Maeve.

Her death was his fault. He'd let her stalking go on for too long out of complacency and some arrogance of his abilities. He should've forced the issue and intervened before it was too late. He should've done anything in his power to save her life.

A tear slid down his cheek as he crouched to slip his gift of roses into the brass vase attached to the headstone. He carefully arranged them so that they stood tall. The scarlet blooms stood out against the snow and the grey headstone like a beacon.

_A beacon for what? Maeve can't return simply because you bring her roses. _

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I love you. I'll love you till the day I take my last breath in this world. Wait for me, Maeve and I'll spend eternity making it up to you."

He stood and stared at the roses as they swayed a little in the cold, winter wind. How many times had he said those words in the year since Maeve's death? How many times _would_ he say them in this empty lifetime that stretched before like an empty highway in the frozen northern landscape? He wiped away more tears that slid down his cheeks. The roses would freeze overnight and blacken. He couldn't stop it. Everything died, even one more precious than his life.

"Good-bye," he said and turned back toward his waiting car and life as grey and dull as the morning sky over his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: See my profile_**

**_ A/n please enjoy the new chapter. Thanks to everyone that has showed interest in this story. I have the best fans in the world. This chapter takes place after the season nine finale._**

Rain continued to pound on Reid's bedroom window the morning after their return from Texas. He opened his eyes to another grey and dull day outside, which seemed to increase the sensation of throbbing pain in his neck. He pushed to a sitting position and fingered the post-op dressing at the site of his bullet wound. Thoughts of the non-narcotic pain killers prescribed by the ER doctor and thoughts of Dilaudid warred in his head. He shut his eyes and breathed in and out until he pushed the thoughts of injecting poison into his veins to the back of his mind. After several long minutes, he stood and hurried to his bathroom. He'd take one of his pain pills and then discover if there was anything edible in his fridge.

In his living area, he saw more rain striking and sliding down the glass like tears. Would it stop or would it continue until the world flooded like some biblical calamity? He saw as he turned from the window, his messenger bag on the sofa. A badge and ID lay on the coffee table, which brought back like a punch, the memory of his conversation with Blake.

He forgot the need for food and pain medicine as he dropped down on the sofa. He picked up Alex's badge and fingered the shield. He'd known as soon as she'd told him about Ethan that she was saying good-bye.

"Why does everyone leave?"

His empty apartment didn't answer so he picked up his messenger bag and drew out, "The Narrative of John Smith." He swallowed hard against the tears that always lurked just beneath the surface of normality he showed the world. He winced against the pain in his neck and blew out a steadying breath as he read the inscription he'd memorized long ago.

Half an hour later he sat in his car, watching the wipers slash back and forth across the windshield of the old Volvo. Why had he come here? It never helped and he always left feeling- lost. He sighed, grabbed his umbrella and a single scarlet rose from the passenger seat. It didn't matter how he felt, he had to visit Maeve because then she'd know how much he still loved her.

_It's been over a year!_

He ignored his inner voice and set off across the sodden grass and down the slope of the hill to her gravesite. He halted in shock and confusion to see a new grave marker next to Maeve's. It read: Elizabeth Donovan, beloved mother, sister, and wife. The date of death was recent, February 21st.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly as the rain fell in torrents around him. How did he miss that her mother had lost her battle with cancer?

"I'm sorry, Maeve," he repeated, and guilt swamped him. If only Maeve were alive, maybe her mother would still be alive, too.

_You can't know that._

He lay the single rose on Maeve's grave and said. "I miss you so much."

He felt raindrops soaking into his slacks and his neck hurt like a diseased tooth. He was so tired he nearly toppled over. Thunder crashed over his head, but he barely noticed it. He shouldn't be out in the rain a day after getting shot and losing so much blood, but he couldn't stay away.

"Alex quit last night," he said. "I think it was because of me. Oh, I didn't do anything wrong, just reminded her of her dead son. Did I mention that I got shot?" He said bitterly and sarcastically. "One millimeter to the right and I'd be with you, Maeve. If it would've happened last year, I would've rejoiced, but today – I don't know."

He hunched his shoulders as he watched the raindrops splatter down on the headstones and bead up on the scarlet rose. "I don't understand why everyone leaves me, Maeve."

He finally turned and trudged back to his car. When he reached his apartment and shut the door, dizziness struck him hard. He managed to make it back to his bedroom and pull off his wet clothing before dropping face down on his bed.

Twelve hours later he awoke to the darkness outside and the silence that told him the storm had passed. Soon the sun would shine again and maybe he'd find the strength to go back to his life, work and friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n this tag takes place right after "Burn."_**

Spencer lay on the bench of the BAU jet and pretended that he slept. His eyes flew open when the cabin jolted, and the engines whined in compensation of a sudden drop in altitude.

"You okay, Spence," JJ asked.

Kate, the new profiler, Rossi and Morgan were sleeping and Hotch was working at the back of the plane. JJ sat across from him and studied him with blue eyes that saw too much for his liking.

"Yeah," he sat up and brushed hair out of his eyes. "Just thinking about the case."

The plane lurched again, and Reid's stomach jumped into his throat. He smiled at JJ who grinned back. "You look a little green – like I feel." She admitted.

"It's illogical," Spencer said, after pausing to find the right words. "Just because we investigated a terrible disaster involving a jet airliner, doesn't mean we turn into nervous fliers."

"Tell that to my stomach," JJ replied.

"Hm… Why don't we play poker?" Reid suggested. "A game will take your mind off the turbulence."

JJ narrowed her eyes in speculation. "I'm not sure I should let you talk me into playing, simply due to nerves."

"I'll let you pick any card from the deck after I shuffle," Reid offered.

"You don't have to patronize me, Spence."

"I'm not," Reid protested. "I'm _trying _to be nice, but if you don't want the free card, fine." He shrugged and moved to the seat across from her.

"Thanks, but no."

"You're choice."

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Reid parked his car next to a green SUV that looked as though it had come off the lot that same day. Several children and two adults ranged around one of the graves up the hill from Maeve's gravesite. The adult man nodded crisply to him as he hurried by and Reid noticed colorful balloons and a teddy bear near a headstone. It must be for a child, he thought and shivered. If anything happened to Henry or Jack – he shook his head and continued down the hillside to Maeve's grave.

"Hi," he greeted and knelt to place his usual red rose on the bronze nameplate.

"I'm sorry it's been a few weeks since I've come to see you. Work's been a little disorganized because we have a new team member. You know how much I dislike change, so it's been distracting. She's great though – the new profiler, that is. Her name is Kate and she used to work on Andi's team.

He brushed aside tufts of grass cuttings deposited by the cemetery's mower during lawn maintenance. He wished for a brush or small broom so that he could do a better job of clearing the nameplate.

"I returned last night from a case that involved a crashed jet airliner. It was – the worst scene I've been to in my career. There was only one survivor, the co-pilot and I don't know if it was luck or a miracle.

He stood up and noticed that some of the family at the child's grave were moving away. It looked like the kids were getting restless.

"One hundred and fifty-one people," Reid continued. "All dead. Kate and I walked the crash site together and at one point she went very quiet. I think I mad3 her mad when I commented on it. She accused me of inter-team profiling, and she was right, a little. Then she told me that her sister and brother-in-law were killed on 9/11 at the Pentagon. I didn't know what to say so I blurted out that I'd seen you killed in front of me and that my mother has schizophrenia."

He crouched again and smoothed a rose petal that the breeze had turned nearly inside out. "After we stopped the man that was behind the crash, Kate, JJ and I went back to the site and put flowers at a makeshift shrine to the victims."

He stood, adjusting his sunglasses and brushed off his pants. "I know the psychology behind gathering in groups to honor the dead and leaving flowers, but this time, all I could think of was you when I should've been thinking of the people on the plane. Do you think I'm selfish?

Reid blew out a breath and wiped a tear rolling from his right eye. "I wish I could hear your voice, Maeve. One more time. I love you."

He was about to go back to his car when a sound caught his attention. He looked up to see a low flying commuter jet pass overhead, it's destination unknown. Life goes on and it was time for him to return to his even if only for now.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n this takes place after "If the Shoe Fits." I love Spencer Reid in the roll of Prince Charming. _**

The light over his desk, illuminated file folders, books in a row along the edge, his computer, phone and the frown residing on his unhappy face.

Morgan studied his friend and after a moment, he strolled to his desk and said. "Hey, why the long face, Prince Charming?"

"Morgan, please don't – I'm not in the mood."

"Just trying to make you smile, kid."

Reid rolled his eyes. "When are you going to stop call me kid?"

"Hey, you know I consider you a little brother."

Reid finally smiled. "Yes, I know you do, and I'm honored."

"You want to join the rest of us for a drink?"

"No. I'm in need of eight hours of sleep."

Morgan didn't push the issue for once and returned to his desk. He worked for an hour until JJ, Rossi and Kate collected him for a round of drinks at Sullivan's. "See you, kid," Morgan called over his shoulder."

"See you later."

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Three days later, Reid left his Volvo in a pool of sunshine. No breeze blew and the grass under his feet was emerald green. He drew in a long breath of fresh air tinged by the smell of earth and a bit of car exhaust and flowers blooming. He glanced at the fountain now operational and studied the statue through the droplets of water that sparkled in the golden afternoon light. The figure of Christ appeared to shine in the water as though a halo of light surrounded it. Reid turned away and hurried to Maeve's grave.

"Hi," he said quietly as he lay a rose on her headstone.

For the first time since her death, he wouldn't form the words he wanted to say. Strangely, he felt guilt, not guilt over her death, but over pretending to be a modern-day Prince Charming.

Ridiculous.

It wasn't a betrayal of Maeve!

Still, he couldn't make his lips say the words he wanted to say, especially when an old man, leaning heavily on the arm of a middle-aged woman, approached. The woman's eyes swept over him and then away as they passed by to a gravestone about ten steps to his left.

Instead, Reid said. "I love you, Maeve. I miss you terribly."

He looked down one more time at the headstone and the red rose lying just below her name. He wiped away a tear and hurried back to his car.

He'd just reached his Volvo when a woman stepped out of the car parked next to him. She stood about five foot seven and was slight with wavy golden-brown hair that stopped at chin length. She wore sunglasses with a white shirt, a chocolate-brown leather jacket and jeans. He realized that he was staring and looked down at the door handle instead of her face.

After a few seconds, the woman said. "Don't you hate sunshine when you visit the cemetery?" She asked as though they knew each other from long ago.

"Yes," he found himself agreeing. She smiled and walked away without another word. He broke out of his paralysis and got into his car.

Later, he thought as he played a solo game of chess, why had he stared and why had she spoken his very thoughts aloud. He shook his head and made the final move to trap the opposing king. He'd worry about his inability to talk to Maeve and his facility to speak to a stranger, later.


	5. Chapter 5

The clock on the wall read a few minutes after ten am. Reid sighed as he put down a load of washed laundry and thought about folding it. The task seemed like too much trouble, but if he didn't get started on it now, he'd end up with a basket full of wrinkled, albeit, clean clothes that he'd have to iron. He should work on an article he was writing for the American Journal of Psychology, but it would have to wait. Instead, he hefted his laundry basket and went to his bedroom to fold it like a responsible adult.

He was halfway through a new library book instead of writing his article when his phone rang, and he entered a new nightmare. It wasn't possible, he repeated in his head for the duration of the drive to Gideon's cabin. It had to be a mistake because if it wasn't an error – he shook his head and gripped the steering wheel of his Volvo more securely. No. He'd meet the others and show them that it was a mistake. The illusion of an inaccuracy shattered the moment he entered the cabin and saw the team, and the body lying covered on the floor.

The absolute certainty that it was Jason Gideon slammed into his gut like a sucker punch when Hotch said, "It's him."

The words echoed in his head and he had to get away. He couldn't stay there and look down at the empty shell that was once his mentor and father figure. He turned and fled the cabin to fresh air that didn't calm, instead it mocked him.

_Gideon will never take another breath of clean mountain air!_

JJ followed him from the cabin and embraced him. He let her hug him even though it wasn't what he wanted. Oh, if only he had Maeve by his side, then maybe, he could stand there and accept the death of a man he loved like a father.

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Two weeks passed after the team finished Jason Gideon's unfinished business. Reid spent nearly all his downtime trying to ignore the call of his chessboard and the memories associated with it. That Sunday morning as he finally gave in and began a new game, his phone beeped. It was JJ. He decided to ignore it for once. He didn't want to talk to her, not now. She said she understood, but she didn't, he thought, petulantly. Why does everyone say they understand?

He stretched and stood his concentration in tatters. He looked toward his kitchen as he realized that he was ravenously hungry, thirsty and in need of a bathroom break. An hour later he found himself outside the door of his favorite diner. Sherrie, the original owner, and the chef was long dead, but her daughter carried on the tradition of comfort food and excellent service. He went inside and saw that the large dining room was about half capacity.

"Spencer," said a short, skinny woman with red hair in a twist at the back of her neck, and the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. "Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."

"Hello, Tina. How are you?"

"I'm fine, just one for lunch?"

"Yes, as usual."

Tina shook her head. "You're too sweet and good-looking to eat alone."

"Thanks," Reid said without blushing because they had the same conversation every time he walked in the door of the diner.

"I prefer to be alone these days."

"Well, too bad. I have a niece that's single and beautiful."

"Tina!"

"You want coffee," Tina asked with a smirk.

"No, I think I'll settle for some green tea."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Spencer glanced down at the placemat in front of him. It contained the menu, which never changed, and he surveyed it even though, he always ordered the same meal. Tina returned with his tea and a glass of ice water just as he was about to remove a book from his messenger bag.

"You want your usual," she asked.

He opened his mouth, then said. "No, I'll have the pot roast."

"Hm, something new. Good for you.

She hurried off and he opened his book. By the time he finished the book, his meal was there. He ate while watching people hurry by on the street, then paid his bill with a generous tip.

"See you next week," Tina asked as she took the cash, he gave her.

"Yeah," he said and smiled for her. "Thanks for a great meal."

"We aim to please."

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The wind blew cold air through his hair as he stood over Maeve's grave and quietly told her about Gideon. "I wish I had the chance to say goodbye," he said, and a tear slid down his cheek. "Maeve, I'm certain there is an afterlife and if you get the chance will you tell him I said I'm sorry for Sarah and that I love him. Will you tell him I said thank you for playing chess, for giving me tickets to a football game so that I could finally have my first date, even though it didn't work out. Please tell him, thank you for being a great friend and mentor."

He sighed and kissed the red rose he hadn't placed on the grave. "God, I miss you, Maeve."

He placed the flower, straightened and trudged back to his car. He topped the small hill to the parking lot and noticed a familiar car pulling into the lot. He recognized the woman stepping from the car and when she saw him, she stopped and smiled. "Hello again."

"Hi."

She blushed and took off her sunglasses. He saw that her eyes were as blue as the sky overhead. Something shifted inside him and for the first time he forgot to think of Maeve. "I'm glad I ran into you again."

"You are?"

"Yeah, I know we don't know each other and I'm not sure why I spoke to you that day. There was something in your face and I wanted to – I don't know what I wanted. Look, you must think I'm crazy. I'll leave you alone."

She walked away and he stood staring at her, then some impulse made him call out. "I don't think you're crazy."

She turned back to him. "Well, that's great because I'm beginning to think I am. I never approach strange men in cemeteries."

Reid gave in to the wild and weird impulse to laugh. "I never talk to strange women in cemeteries." He countered.

She smiled and he liked the way it crinkled her nose in the sunlight beating down from above. She walked back to him and held out her hand. "My name is Maxine. Max if you like."

"Hello, Max. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid."


	6. Chapter 6

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n this is the last chapter. Thanks to all who've supported this story and thanks again to my wonderful beta, REIDFANATIC. Take care and Merry Christmas_**

Reid's phone buzzed just as he was pulling a sweater over his head. He snatched it up and smiled to see that it was Max's number, not work. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hi," Max said. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Spencer sighed. "I thought we agreed not to celebrate."

"We did, but I'd still like to see my favorite guy on a gloomy Sunday afternoon."

Her voice, like smooth chocolate, made his neck tingle. "I want to see you, too. I have one stop to make before we meet. See you there in an hour?"

"I'll be waiting with a hot cup of coffee."

"You're too good to me."

"A bit presumptuous are we. The coffee is for me."

"Oh," he said and then chuckled. "See you later."

"Bye."

He pocketed his cell phone and went to his messenger bag. He removed "The Narrative of John Smith," and opened the cover. He touched the inscription and blew out a breath. "Thank you," he said and closed the book. He went to his bookcase and slid the book into a slot near his collection of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's works. He studied it for a minute, then picked up his coat and hurried from the apartment.

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Reid strode down the sloping hill to Maeve's gravesite half an hour later. He carried a dozen red roses in his hands. The lawn golden and dead crunched under his feet. Most of the snow was gone due to an early thaw although the news said it would storm later in the week. He shivered in the cold wind and approached her headstone with a bit of trepidation.

He saw that someone had visited because on Elizabeth Donovan's headstone were a dozen white roses and white lilies on Maeve's marker. They looked fresh, as though he just missed the mourner. He supposed the flowers were from Maeve's father or a friend, or both. Why had he never thought of Maeve having friends? He shook his head. It didn't matter.

"Hi, Maeve," he greeted as he arranged the bouquet he carried.

He fell silent for a long time as he tried to think of what to say. Weeks had passed since his last visit and he felt – guilty.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited you for so long."

He paused again, then thought, hell, just say it.

"I met someone, and I like her very much. Her name is Max and she's amazing."

He stopped and looked at the statue of Christ, forever with his arms outstretched in welcome. "I will always love you, Maeve, but I want to explore this new relationship. I want to discover if I can be open to love again.

He sighed and crouched down. "I hope that wherever you are, you're happy, Maeve and I truly hope that one day we'll see each other again."

He straightened to his feet and turned back to his car and back to a new life that waited for him to embrace it.

**_THE END_**


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